Back Here's a tale that will make your blood run cold and compel you to keep your doors shut and your windows tight...
Sunday. After musician practice is over, we grab some food and head over to Ray's place to load the encampment to transport it to Tewinkle Park to work on it. Youth Expo is going on at the fairgrounds across the street and the park is packed. We decide to park on the far corner near the tennis courts to minimize how far we must trek all the lumber and coverings. Everything is unloaded.
Ray has a new idea for our encampment. Rather than relying on a boring yet functional square design, he wants something different: a six-sided edifice with a peaked top and cascading walls. He takes some poles and lays out the design on the ground. A hexagon. Honeycombed shaped...
We decide it's time to start working on other stuff, namely Janet's old tent that Jay wants to convert into a kitchen. It's getting hot now, so start moving everything into the shade. That is when we looked over to the cars parked on the side of the road and saw THEM.
"That's a lot of bugs," somebody commented. Indeed, the sunlight shone down on a growing cloud of flying insects hovering around the vehicles, especially around Brian's truck. A small boy was walking over when his father ran out and picked him up. "You don't want to go over there. Those are bees."
By now the bees have started flying toward us, whizzing around like the Angels of Death in Raiders of the Lost Ark. They lost interest in us, though, as they started congregating around Brian's truck. You see, Brian had his door opened and the ignition on so we can hear his radio blaring (from a few miles away). Maybe there was something about the music he was playing. Maybe there was something inside. Whatever it was, all of a sudden all of the bees flew inside Brian's truck.
What do we do? "I knew this bad habit would pay off!" John exclaims as he goes to his truck and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Brian, Scott and John light up and quickly puff their way to Brian's truck. They would take a drag and exhale. Drag and exhale. Drag and exhale. There was just enough of a wind to make most of the smoke blow back into their faces.
By now, it was quite obvious a queen somehow thought Brian's truck would be the ideal spot to start a new hive. The bees were literally attaching themselves to the windshield and the headliner, quickly forming a thick visor where none was there before. More kept on coming. "See, Brian," I quipped. "Your truck is still a chick magnet!"
People would drive by and stop dead when they saw nature's course being played in the white Toyota. One man took a picture and proclaimed it would be in the O.C. Register. Others purposefully drove wide around it. Some onlookers walked straight up to the front to observe the spectacle. All were glad they were not the owners of this truck!
Brian went over to the police supervising fairgrounds traffic to see what they could do. Animal control was contacted and said they don't do bees. Vector control is closed on Sunday; try again tomorrow. Several listed bee keepers were called but no response. Finally one guy said to call back in 15 minutes with all the details. Brian could never reach him, so it was time to take matters into his own hands.
As John took Brian to get some bug spray, we were left guarding the area warding off curiosity seekers and people trying to park in front of Brian's truck. Most took the hint, except for this one guy who lumbers up in his large SUV and ignores us waving our arms and yelling at him to move on.
He gets out, and sure enough his truck is engulfed by bees. He takes his son out, then takes a towel and tries to wipe them off his dashboard, his steering wheel, his windshield, his son, himself. He gives up and drives away, undoubtedly taking some hundred agitated bees with him.
Meanwhile, the bees have settled down into some serious nest-building. Other Gypsies now begin to show up, including Alison who is deathly allergic. She and Juli hide in her car.
Brian and John return, armed with Raid Wasp and Hornet Killer. Did you know it's illegal to kill honey bees? A poisonous jet of fluid shoots from the can, decimating layer after layer of worker bees. Brian claimed he never found the queen.
Now very pissed, Brian jumps into his truck and drives onto the freeway, speeding over 90 to convince his new winged squatters this is not the place for them. At the car wash the vacuum removes the last ones.
For the rest of the day, the bees hovered around the area, waiting for their queen to return...
Unpleasant dreams!
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